What will Historians say, 30, 40, 50 years from now, about this decade we’re living in, in the early innings of (to use baseball analogy)?
Worldwide disease (COVID) and then War…
It occurs to me, this morning, that all my life, before this cursed decade began, I was living in a time - when the world - was growing smaller.
We, people on this blue ball, 3rd planet, from “the sun” - our favorite star, because it’s the one that keeps us warm, on some days, in some places. I digress…
All my life, until recently, my world, the time I grew up in, we people, we were becoming, like it or not, more connected.
We had ever more options - transport options, planes and trains, all sorts of automobiles, electric bikes and electric Barbie cars, scooters, segways, motorized hang gliders (for goodness sake).
And when I was young, quite young, stamp collecting, that was still - A Thing. I especially liked collecting stamps from foreign lands, with strange letters, exotic images, unknown currencies.
Stamps came to my - little pink house - in suburbia USA, stuck on envelopes mailed to me from foreign lands, with a thing called a QSL card inside. (Look it up.)
You don’t have to look it up.
QSL cards were proof, confirmation, that I had caught a geek guy wave, a radio wave, usually on some night, when the sunspots were right, I could turn a dial and take a ride, a radio wave ride and hear voices, music, I could be transported via radio wave to all corners of a globe.
I made notes, with date and time, Greenwich Mean Time (GMT), a - well not universal - a planet Earth - singular time. A time pegged to a country that once ruled a planet. A time everyone, anywhere could synch watches too. Meet me in Bali at 17:00 GMT for Bintangs (Indo beers), Bob. (Who doesn’t know, a Bob?)
Which leads me to wonder, what would a true Universal time look like? Universal Mean Time (UMT) - how would that work? Meet me at 9900:45 on CVSO 30 c, not b, 30 c, take note Boba (space age Bob) for VOSa’s with lime.
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All those words, all that ramble, all that riff, from what? Riffing off Stamps? Wow… You are a Space Cowboy Scott. You’re - out there. On some planet, somewhere. How many space beers did you have last night?
To conclude, today, this day, Stamps seem - so quaint, don’t they? Stamps. How quaint. How sweet…
Old Man looks back longingly, to simpler days, buy the world a Coke, Indians (geez Louise - that's unacceptable, isn’t it… Redskins, I mean Commanders - of the Washington variety).
In my day, we called ‘em Indians. They teared up and cried, by the side of roads, when dickweeds threw trash out of car windows.
Todays, it’s all different. A curse, on all of our houses.
The world I remember, it was always - getting smaller, closer, more connected. More Coke for more people of Earth. A world, holding hands, singing songs.
Not no more Bub. Those days are gone. Disease, war — what is it good for? - absolutely - Nothing.
We’re coming apart. The world is growing larger, bigger, less connected, more insular. Stay in your lane Buddy, Buddy Boy. I’ve got my flag. You’ve got yours.
Cross that line, and I’m going to - Stand My Ground. I’ll shoot. You just try me.
%#%^, @$&#, &!$*. We’re $%#%ed.
Are we looking at 8 more years of - THIS? And then what?
2030, meet me at 77:94 UMT, location, planet TBD, let’s find it. Virgin Galatic, flight DMZ, I will save you a seat. Party at our place. New decade (needed), new hope, Big Fun. Indians, People of Earth, Creatures of the Universe. All will be welcome.
Start your countdown clock. We look forward to seeing you there.